


It's The Memories That Heal Us

by jacksonwng



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comforting Derek, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Disney Movies, Fluff and Angst, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Sick Stiles, Specifically Toy Story and Aladdin, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonwng/pseuds/jacksonwng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since his mother died, Stiles has grown used to spending his sick days alone. But he wasn't alone anymore and Derek intends to make sure that Stiles knows that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's The Memories That Heal Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MySnarkySelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MySnarkySelf/gifts).



> Requested by [Vici](http://mysnarkyself.tumblr.com)
> 
> Beta'd by [15acresofbrokenglass](http://15acresofbrokenglass.tumblr.com) :P

 

More than anything, Stiles hated being sick.

It made him feel weak, when his muscles refused to work with him; incapable, when he could barely think straight; and vulnerable, when he couldn’t move for his head spinning and the need to vomit rising. When he was a kid, it didn’t matter too much. His Mama and Dad would take turns taking the day off with him. They’d curl up together on the sofa under the hand stitched blanket that his Grandmama had made when his Mama was a toddler, and watch Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast and a bunch of other disney films, with a mug of sweet hot chocolate.

But after his mother died...it changed. His dad had to work even more to keep them afloat and out of the debt that Stiles’ knew his Mama’s hospital bills put them in. He would spend those days alone, his dad dropping in whenever he had the chance, which was few and far between. Stiles clung desperately to the comfort that he had once had. He made the drink and he found the blanket and he watched all the movies, but it...it just didn’t feel the same. There was a hole, a human shaped hole, that just couldn’t be filled.

Maybe that’s why he hated it so much.

It was just a reminder of what he had lost.

A reminder that he was alone.

Even now that he was older and that he had people there all the time because the pack is the most invasive family Stiles has ever seen, it still felt that way. He was one of the only humans in a crowd of werewolves so of course, he was going to be the only one that caught the flu that had been circling around the school. He had woken up feeling cold and sticky and lightheaded. He vaguely remembered his Dad hovering above him, frowning and pressing his palm to his forehead, and then announcing that there was no way he was going to school. Considering that Stiles could barely keep his eyes open, he didn’t object much. His Dad helped him down the stairs and onto the sofa, got him a glass of water and tucked him into the worn blanket. Stiles barely managed to mutter a thank you before his eyes closed once more.

When he woke up again, his Dad was gone, but Derek stood in his place. He stood tall and imposing over the bed, his shoulders tense and his arms folded over his chest. His expression was blank except for the frown on his face, and if it weren’t for the fact that Stiles knew Derek better than anyone, he wouldn’t have noticed that Derek was concerned.

Stiles squinted his watery eyes. “You’re not a hallucination are you?”

“You didn’t show up at school today,” Derek stated, “Scott texted me.”

“That boy worries too much,” he murmured in return, “I’m fine.”

“You look terrible.”

“Charmer,” Stiles sniffed and then coughed. He drew the blanket up to his neck and curled his legs closer to his body, “It’s just the flu. It’ll be gone in a few days.”

Derek shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Can...” he paused, “Is there anything I can do?”

Stiles tried not to look surprised. This thing with Derek was new. Really new. So new that Stiles wasn’t really sure what they were to each other, or how they were supposed to act around one another when they were both still wearing clothes.Apparently, Derek felt the same way, but the fact he still wanted to do something kind of made Stiles feel all warm inside - or maybe that was the fever.

“Stay with me?” Stiles asked, hopefully.  

He struggled to sit up, his head spinning, and patting the now open space at his feet. Derek sat down awkwardly, kind of stiff and nervous, but he laid his arm across the back of the sofa, leaving a Stiles shaped space for him to snuggle into, something that Stiles definitely had no trouble filling. He pressed his face into the crook of Derek’s neck, and inhaled the smell of oak and petrichor and leather. Derek tilted his head down to rest his cheek on Stiles’ head and a hand came to rest at the back of his neck. Stiles sighed, closing his eyes, and dragged the blanket up under his chin.

“What do you usually do...when you’re sick?” Derek questioned lowly.

“Sit here with movies until the drugs I’m taking eventually make me pass out,” Stiles told him, voice muffled into fabric. He glanced upwards slightly, “What about you? What would you do?”

“Werewolves don’t get sick,” Derek responded automatically.

“Oh, right, yeah, your super immune systems right, I-”

“But when Rayvn or Henry got sick, we would all bundle together,” he continued. Stiles fell silent instantly. It wasn’t often that Derek spoke of the family he had lost, or the time before that. Stiles wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. “We didn’t have to worry about getting sick and our body heat can help break a fever. Plus, we can take away any pain they’d feel. We watched cartoons - Rayvn loved Toy Story and Henry was unusually attached to Snow White - and read books, mostly slept.”

“Puppy piles,” Stiles murmured.

Derek shot him a look, the corner of his mouth twitched upward on one side. “If you want to call it that.”

“We can watch Toy Story if you want to,” Stiles offered with a sniff, “When I was a kid, I loved the idea of the toys coming alive when you went away.”

“Me too,” Derek admitted lowly. He looked away. “Where is it?”

Stiles unraveled the blanket from around his hand to wave towards the DVD shelf beside the television. Derek pushed away from the sofa, leaving a strangely cold space beside Stiles. Stiles watched Derek’s movements, as he crossed the living room, examined the shelf and picked out the DVD. Okay, so Stiles watched the curve of Derek’s ass, and the bunching of muscles in his back, and the sinful way that those jeans clutched at his thighs. Stiles may be sick, but he wasn’t dead. He thought he was allowed a few moments to appreciate the view.

When Derek returned to the sofa, the movie beginning to play on the screen, Stiles pushed himself back against Derek’s side. He felt more grounded, less like his vision was blurred and his head was going to explode, and his hands shook as he fussed with the blanket, making sure it covered him and Derek. The man looked down at the patchwork for a moment, before straightening the edges across his lap slowly. Stiles took that as a good sign.

He stayed awake during the introduction of Buzz Lightyear and he had to scramble to the bathroom by the time the green aliens in the claw game were introduced.  Derek followed behind, rubbed his back comfortingly until the tremors calmed, guiding him through the process of brushing his teeth and carried him back down to the sofa with a glass of water. This time Stiles’ head lolled in Derek’s lap, long fingers running through his hair (another example of why him growing his hair out was a great idea). He watched Buzz having an emotional break down upon realising he was really a toy until his vision blurred and everything felt heavy.

When he woke up again, he felt groggy and just as tired as he was when he fell asleep, but his head was still comfortably rested the crease between Derek’s thighs, surrounded by his smell, and even though he was sure that Derek already knew he was awake, Stiles didn’t want to move.

“He still asleep,” the voice of his father reached Stiles’ ears and suddenly he had a whole new reason for not wanting to open his eyes. He hadn’t exactly told his father about Derek. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of Derek. God no. If he could parade that man about, he would at every opportunity. There was just the small matter that he was one month away from turning 18 and that only two years earlier he had accused Derek of murder. Twice.

Fingers traced the shell of his ear. “Yeah,” Derek rumbled out a reply.

“He always slept a lot when he was sick as a kid,” John spoke, “He could sleep through anything. And I’ll be honest, Stiles was such a hyperactive kid, the moments where he was completely out of it were the few moments of silence that had to be cherished.”

Stiles had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop the indigent noise that threatened to escape.

“You do notice how quiet it is when he’s not talking,” Derek agreed carefully.

Silence followed. In the background, Stiles could hear his dad moving about - probably moving towards the kitchen to put the kettle on, like he normally did when he came home from work. Derek’s fingers brushed through his hair, tugged sharply at the edges just to say “I know you’re awake, why haven’t you come to save me?” Stiles had to turn his face into Derek’s thighs to stop the smile that threatened to spread across his lips from showing. A floorboard creaked under foot, and Stiles knew that it was his father making his way to his sofa. He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. The armchair creaked under the weight as John sat down. Stiles clenched his eyes so he wouldn’t be tempted to open them anymore than he already was.

“Derek, I’m not going to pretend that there’s nothing going on between you and my son,” John started, “I know with the whole...werewolf thing and the pack means you spend a lot of time together, more than I’m happy with, but I know better than to try and keep you two apart because I know Stiles and I know that he’ll only do it in secret and I’ve had enough of those in this house.”

Stiles tried not to react to the guilt that tightened his chest.

“So I’m just going to give you a few warnings. I know he acts a lot older than he actually is. It’s easy to forget sometimes, but he’s still underage and I’m still the Sheriff. I wouldn’t want to arrest you. On top of that, Stiles’ curfew is 9pm on weekdays, midnight on weekends. He’s home every night. There’s no staying over at night at yours until he’s 18 and I have no say. If you’re in the house, you leave by curfew. No sex is in my house, whether I’m here or not. Understood?”

“Crystal clear Sheriff,” Derek responded instantly, no hesitation.

“Call me John,” the man corrected. The chair squeaked as he pushed off from it. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

“I hope so.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” The floorboards creaked and then stopped, “Oh, and another thing. Thank you. For staying with him today. I know how much Stiles hates to be alone, especially on days like this.”

“I understand, trust me,” Derek replied after a moment of long silence.

His dad’s footsteps carried away until the only sound in the room was breathing and the low hum of the television. It was then that Stiles opened his eyes and Derek looked down at him, his expression mostly unreadable. He felt vulnerable, Stiles noted, so he closed himself off. Stiles couldn’t sure that he meant to do it. Shutting down had become kind of an habitual response and, considering what Derek had gone through, Stiles understood. He really did. But that didn’t mean he was happy to let Derek stroll back behind his barrier without a fight.

Stiles reached up to grasp Derek’s hand, the one that rested on his chest, and raised it so that he could press his cracked lips to the back of his hand. The skin was warm and rough and the dark hair tickled his nose but he didn’t pull away. He just kept their eyes locked, hoping that whatever he was feeling, all the words he had trouble saying, all those emotions he didn’t fully understand, were being expressed in his eyes and that Derek could figure out what everything meant.

If Derek ever did figure out the secrets Stiles was trying to share, he didn’t comment on it. He just smiled half crookedly, like he couldn’t help it, and one of his fingers brushed across Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles’ eyes fluttered closed and let out a small sigh of contentment.

The next time Stiles was sick - well, if you could call it sick, it was more recovering from a broken leg thanks to the big bad that decided they were able to take on the pack and win - Derek showed up within minutes of his dad leaving for work. He carried Stiles down the stairs and into the living room, bundled the blanket around his body, switched on the television and placed himself at Stiles’ head. Derek’s hand locked in his hair while the other pulled the aching from his leg. Stiles sighed and relaxed into the sofa, into Derek and peered through half lidded eyes at the television screen.

“Aladdin,” Stiles recognised just as the song ‘Arabian Nights’ began to play.

Derek hummed. “Your dad said it was your favourite.”

“It is, my mama liked it,” Stiles replied softly, “She’d sing the songs with me every time, even when she was going through her chemo and she couldn’t...” he went quiet.

Derek traced his cheekbones. “I’m not sure I can sing as well as your mother, but if you want me too...”

“What, you’ll sing with me?” Stiles couldn’t stop the smile that ripped across his face, or the way his heart lurched in his chest.

“I think I can do it this once, since you’re sick,” Derek gave a half shrug.

Stiles decided not to mention that technically, broken bones didn’t mean you were sick, and just enjoyed the gruff murmurings of ‘One Jump’ in his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I kind of got carried away with this fic. It was supposed to be short and cute, and ended up being long and a little depressing and overloaded with fluffy sterek feelings. Hopefully that's still a good thing.
> 
> Let me know what you think :)
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://imthekeptainnow.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and poke me and/or watch me break down over tv shows that have taken over my life.


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